


The Contest

by Backne



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Hawke, Rivalmance, Top Fenris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 22:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4197312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Backne/pseuds/Backne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke takes pride in the fact that he can outlast his lover in bed. Fenris decides to take matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Contest

Hawke could be very competitive at times, and Fenris was not one to back down from a challenge, so it was no surprise that sometimes sex became more of a sudden death match to see who could make the other man finish first. Given the elf’s lack of experience and Hawke’s self-proclaimed “sexual prowess,” he had yet to win this contest, much to his frustration. It was probably the most pleasurable way possible to lose at anything, but his pride was more than a little wounded, especially with the way Hawke was always teasing him about it like an insufferable braggart. The mage’s head was much too swollen for Fenris’s liking.

How anyone could look so smug with a moan on his lips and a cock buried in his arse was beyond the warrior’s comprehension. Fenris knew that he needed to put the burly Ferelden in his place, except he wasn’t sure how to do it. No matter how aggressive the fucking, Hawke would just take it, like he was built to be plowed. Fenris could pound into him with tooth-rattling force, use his back like a scratching post, sink his teeth into his neck, yank his hair, do anything he bloody wanted short of smacking him upside the head, and Hawke would take it. Then before he knew what was happening, Hawke would be rolling back into him, meeting every thrust, and it made him wonder who was the one truly doing the taking after all. Perhaps it was the illusion of having control that frustrated him so much…. It made him realize that just because he was the one doing the poking didn’t mean he was the one running to show. 

Currently, Hawke was threatening to ride him right through the very mattress. Fenris forced his eyes to stay open, watching the shaggy panting mage, who was glistening from head to toe, his muscular legs gripping the elf’s slender hips tight like a vice as he bounced up and down in his lap with a loud smack each time their skin met. He held his rigid cock against his stomach with a free hand so as not to slap his lover’s belly with each swift downward slide, the head of it flushed and weeping. Despite all this he wore a little smirk, because Fenris on the other hand, was barely hanging on by a thread. His bangs were plastered to his forehead, grasping fistfuls of the sheets so tightly that tan skin stretched white over the bone of his knuckles. He was beyond making sound, breathing raggedly as his heels dug into the bed with curled toes. He was trying with all his might not to give in, not to spill himself into the slick, clenching heat of the Champion’s somewhat fuzzy and rather shapely ass.

“Festis bei umo canavarum!” He grit out, nearly trembling with the effort.

“That good, eh?” Hawke managed a breathy laugh and bared down some of his weight. He angled his hips back somewhat, letting his head fall forward as the elf’s prick presumably rubbed that special sweet spot inside.

Trying to press his advantage, Fenris let go of the blankets in favor of grabbing onto the ridges of Hawke’s hips, holding him still with a bruising grip and digging his nails into tender flesh. Hawke just chuckled as if it didn’t phase him, an infuriating sound when one is trying so desperately not to give in to sweet temptation. Fenris growled at him in an attempt to voice his annoyance, giving a savage buck of his hips that effectively shut the big oaf up.

That was good. Maybe this time was different; he felt like he might actually have a chance if he could just hold on for a little longer. The second snap earned him a stuttered gasp, the third a loud grunt, and then he was fucking upward into Hawke with an almost primal urgency. A staccato of little cries was his reward, and then Hawke was clenching around him, using all of his weight to pin the elf’s pelvis beneath him.

“Venhedis!” No, no he didn’t stand a chance, not at all.

“You’re already cursing in Tevene. Looks like I’m going to win again, love, this must be a new record,” Hawke’s singsong was a bit hoarse but it still managed to piss him off. A rhythmic squeezing of inner muscles milked him perfectly, urging him to give in lest he explode. He felt his balls tightening, the first twitch that signified that yet again, he was indeed going to lose.

“Enough!” Fenris barked suddenly, and yanked on Hawke’s hips, tossing the large, hairy human off of him and onto the bed. The mage bounced twice when he hit the mattress beside him, stunned into silence and blinking rapidly in bewilderment. Although couplings sometimes erred on the aggressive side, being shoved off before completion was not a usual part of their routine. In fact, it was a first.

Fenris reached down with one hand and squeezed the base of his throbbing prick hard. His eyes closed as he breathed in deeply through his nose and did his best to stave off his climax. His entire body was trembling, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and skating down his neck to pool between in his clavicles.

“What’s wrong? Did I go too far?” Hawke asked, his voice wrought with concern. The mage’s hand reached out to touch his shoulder. “Fenris, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I’m fine, quit your fussing,” Fenris muttered after a moment, exhaling slowly through his mouth and letting go of his member. His flesh tingled after teetering on the edge for so long only to be denied release, and his balls were aching almost painfully.

“Then why did you shove me off like that?!” Hawke yelped with such indignation that he couldn’t help but give a little snort of amusement despite himself, yet he offered no explanation. Instead he pushed up onto his knees and reached for the other man’s leg, grabbing him by the ankle and dragging him close again.

“Wha—mmf!” Fenris yanked him against his narrow chest and looped a strong arm around broad shoulders to keep the other man still as he went in for a rough kiss. The soft, thick hair covering his chest was damp and tickled his sensitive skin, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.

His other hand came up to tangle in Hawke’s thick black mop, holding his head in position until the broad frame melted against his slimmer one. The beard rubbed his chin when he bit his lover’s bottom lip, sucking briefly and then tilting his head to the side to delve his tongue deeper into the Champion’s mouth. Large hands came to settle on his ass then, palms hot on his skin as they kneaded and squeezed carefully. It reminded Fenris of his original intentions.

A single push effectively broke the kiss and Hawke fell backwards with his limbs splayed about him, his erection still standing at attention. The warrior drank him in, eyes scouring the masculine visage before him. It gave him such an unexpected thrill at times to be able to bury himself deep inside a man so much larger than himself, a mage even, painting him from the inside with his climax on an almost daily basis. Sometimes he would finish Hawke off with his fingers, using his own seed to slick the way, reveling in claiming Hawke for himself. Perhaps he should feel guilty for such possessiveness, but Hawke seemed content enough to allow it. However, he had a different plan in mind that night, and it was best he get on with it lest his erection start to flag and he lose the nerve he had built up in his aroused state.

Fenris climbed over Hawke, his cock swaying enticingly in front of the mage’s face so that he lifted his head to take it into his mouth, giving a huff of disappointment when elf angled his hips away. Confusion further creased his forehead as Fenris braced himself by pressing his palms to the wall and positioned his arse above his face. He glanced back over his shoulder to look at the Champion through narrowed eyes, he reached back to grip one cheek and bare himself.

“Prepare me,” he ordered. 

Hawke was slow to comply, and for a gut-wrenching moment Fenris feared that he had made a grievous mistake. The human had made a vague, rather tentative allusion to his interest in the act not all that long ago, but Fenris had shot the notion down almost immediately. Hawke had seemed to expect as much and did not press the matter, just accepted that the elf had no interest in his arse being touched save for an occasional squeeze. But perhaps he had changed his mind since then, no longer wished to—

A warm, slippery sensation sliding over the outside of his hole caused him to hiss involuntarily. Hawke paused, but when he was not reprimanded, he dared another pass of his tongue across the elf’s entrance, earning him a short huff. Emboldened, he lifted his hand to help spread the warrior wider and tug his hips lower, lapping at him with abandon, each pass of his tongue more firm than the last as he licked broad stripes from the warrior’s cleft to the back of his balls.

Fenris had not anticipated that he would enjoy the sensation quite so much, his prick throbbing incessantly as Hawke continued to taste him in a way he had never foreseen himself allowing in a thousand years. Without thinking he slowly began to push back into the wet pressure with a low rumble of a moan in his throat, when Hawke released his grip on the smaller man’s ass and instead wound his arms around his thighs. The throaty sound Hawke answered him with was muffled against his flesh, and Fenris’s prick twitched wantonly in response. The obscene, wet lapping sounds and little noises of pleasure the mage was making proved too much to resist touching himself anymore and so he let his forehead fall forward with a thud when his skull met the wall, reaching lower to loosely stroke himself. Taking notice, Hawke felt confident enough to lick deeper, pressing the tip of his tongue inside.

The warrior gasped and found himself pressing harder into the pleasant intrusion, which eagerly pushed deeper inside of him until he was breathing hard and fast, all worked up again. Although he hadn’t believed it possible that having something inside him could ever possibly feel this good, despite how much Hawke always seemed to enjoy himself, he was even more surprised to find himself wanting more, aching to be filled. Chastising himself silently, he moved his hand up to rub the leaking head of his cock, trembling when Hawke retracted his tongue and then stiffened it again, shoving back into him. Without warning, Hawke pulled him down harder so that Fenris was all but sitting on his face, groaning as he set a rhythm and began fucking the elf’s with his tongue. Despite the ragged moan that escaped him, Fenris managed a chuckle.

“You like this, don’t you, Champion?” He taunted, but the mage’s mouth was otherwise preoccupied.

The warrior bit his bottom lip and reached deep to muster the willpower to unwind Hawke’s arms from around his legs and unseat himself. The bear beneath him put up a bit of fight, tightening his grip briefly and craning his neck, but when Fenris refused to yield, thick arms fell back onto the bed with a thud. A disappointed grumble met his ears as he began searching through the sheets for the little bottle of oil they had used as lubricant earlier.

“This what you’re looking for?” Hawke asked, plucking the container from the nightstand and pressing it into the elf’s palm. Fenris hummed his approval and the mage watched with interest as he coated the fingers of his right hand generously, making a mess as some of it spilled onto the sheets. “What’re you doing?”

The warrior chose not to answer as he reached back behind himself and stroked his oiled fingers against his spit-slick hole. It seemed Hawke’s mouth had done a swell job already, so he didn’t have much difficulty working his first digit inside up to the second knuckle. Although it wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as the sensation of Hawke’s warm, wet tongue, it would help much more to prepare him for phase two of his plan. He had watched the mage do this enough times, had learned how to do it for him, but it was his first time doing it to himself. It was strange to feel how tight and warm he was inside.

Hawke had said stretching yourself made coupling easier after sufficient foreplay to get the body loose and excited. Personally, he found it a little bit awkward to reach around and maintain his balance as he worked his finger in to the last knuckle, then began pushing in a second. With a glance at Hawke’s girthy shaft, he began trying to add a third, wincing a bit at the sting and very quickly pushing back at the memories the familiar pain threatened to conjure.

“Can I help?” Hawke’s big brown eyes were soft and imploring as he looked up at him. “I know a little trick that might make that easier.”

Fenris pursed his lips thoughtfully, his hand going still behind him. His erection had already began to soften between his thighs.

“I promise if you tell me to stop, I will, no questions asked.”

“I know.” Hawke smiled at him, a kind look seldom witnessed at times like these.

“Come lay on your back,” he said as he got on his knees and motioned Fenris closer, stacking some pillows by the headboard. The elf let his fingers slide free before he complied, allowing Hawke to lift his left leg up and drape it over one large shoulder, his bronzed and tattooed calve in contrast with the other man’s paler skin and dusting of dark hair. The burly human angled the elf’s hips somewhat and oiled his own fingers, careful to avoid staining the sheets further. To Fenris’s surprise, however, he dipped his head and licked a wet stripe along the shaft of his half-hard erection before he felt the touch of a slick digit massaging the outside of his hole.

Hawke continued to rub his entrance in small circles as he busied himself reviving the elf’s arousal, taking him into his mouth and applying suction as his head began bobbing. The warrior moaned in appreciation, once again enveloped in tight, wet heat, too distracted to worry about what the mage was doing with his hand as one thick digit began to ease inside. Fenris let out a hoarse moan in response as he reached out with his clean left hand to firmly grip Hawke’s hair, holding him still with the human’s nose mashed against his pelvis. In turn Hawke swallowed around him, easing his finger out and then back in again, causing the smaller body beneath him to tremble slightly.

The elf loosened his grip and allowed the mage to pull up and get some air after several seconds passed, groaning as a greedy mouth suckled at the sensitive head of his cock and fluttered a tricky tongue over the weeping slit. The thick finger inside him began to set a slow but steady pace pumping in and out of him.

“How’s this?” Hawke asked thickly, his voice coarser than normal when he pulled off of him to catch his breath.

“Good, keep going.” Was the curt reply. Fenris forced his eyes open again, not having realized he’d even closed them, and watched as Hawke swallowed him again. He rolled his hips up to meet Hawke’s mouth and then back down to push into his hand, finding that the slick digit moving inside him only added to the sensation, leaving him aching and empty each time Hawke pulled out, no pain to hamper his pleasure. Then it crooked the same way the mage had taught Fenris to do when preparing him, a funny feeling until he found what he was looking for. The elf gasped as his hips gave a little jerk and the mage making a pleased sound around the length in his mouth. The finger stayed buried inside him then, pressing insistently against the spot that made his thighs quiver and his stomach clench tight. He gasped breathlessly as Hawke redoubled his efforts, sucking fiercely on his prick, and this time Fenris didn’t even have time to try to stop Hawke.

“H-Hawke, Garrett, ahhhnn!”

His eyes pinched shut and his spine bowed, his grip on Hawke’s hair so tight that he surely pulled a few out. He clenched his jaw hard enough that the tendons in his neck strained while he thrusted savagely into the other man’s mouth, the heel of his foot digging into Hawke’s back as his leg flexed and pulled the human closer. His body clenched desperately around the singular digit still rubbing his prostate without mercy, feeling like his cock was about to explode as he came in the mage’s mouth.

For several seconds Fenris just lay there, muscles taut and hardly breathing before his whole body went limp. He twitched when Hawke released his softened shaft from his mouth, the invading finger carefully sliding out of him.

“Well that was fun,” the mage noted cheerfully, and the bed dipped as he climbed next to Fenris and lay beside him. Soft hair itched his sweaty chest as the human came to rest his face on the elf’s sternum, draping one arm across his midriff.

“That wasn’t what I had planned,” Fenris stated, reaching up to push his damp hair off his face.

"I figured as much.”

“Then why did you…?” He left the question hanging, unsure of what to call whatever it was that had just occurred.

“Because you weren’t ready yet.” He opened his mouth to argue, but Hawke kept talking. “You kept a straight face but your shoulders were tense, and you got that look in your eyes. The last thing I wanted is for you to push yourself and not enjoy it at all. Besides, there’s always next time, right? Oh, and by the way…” The mage lifted his head and positioned himself above the warrior, waiting patiently for him to open his eyes.

He leaned down and pressed his mouth softly to Fenris’s, kissing him slow and sweet until the elf began to crave more. But as soon as his lips parted, Hawke pulled away. "I win.“ The human pecked the tip of his nose before his hairy countenance split into a wide, shit-eating grin. 

Fenris gave a disgusted snort as he shoved the mage away from him. "Finish yourself off,” he groused and rested one arm over his eyes. His thighs and lower abdomen were still quivering from the force of his orgasm, and he wasn't feeling especially inclined to lend a hand.

“Aww, don’t be like that! Nobody likes a sore loser!” Hawke whined, poking his hip with his neglected hard-on.

“Perhaps you should’ve waited until after release to start gloating,” the elf smirked and rolled onto his side.


End file.
